


Somewhere in neverland

by Felicia (Fillerh)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fillerh/pseuds/Felicia
Summary: Tattoo soulmate au. Everything your soulmate tattoo shows up on your skin.
Relationships: Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Kudos: 27





	Somewhere in neverland

The first time it happened, Murphy was 10. He’d been sleeping soundly in his barricaded closet, having sweet dreams about living in his own apartment like a grownup. 

That all shattered the moment he felt the sting on his upper right arm. At first he didn’t know what had happened. Had his foster dad found a way to hurt him? But that seemed unlikely. The pain stopped only a few minutes after it started, around 20 minutes if he’d had to guess. 

Braving the wrath of his step-father, he moved out of the closet soundlessly, taking timid steps towards the bathroom. He made sure to avoid the creaky steps, knowing by heart where they were.

Only once he’d closed and securely locked the door did he dare to turn on the light. Slowly lifting the edge of his shirt he took a few seconds before he looked into the mirror. On his pale, small arm were a single black tattoo.

The tattoo looked vaguely familiar, but he still couldn’t really place it. It was a thin black circle with eight points like a star around the circle. On the inside of the circle, or star, were thin squiggly lines. Murphy had no idea what the symbol meant, but he knew what the tattoo in itself meant. 

He had a soulmate. 

The second time it happened he was 16, sitting in detention. The stinging concentrated right underneath the first tattoo. This time it hurt a lot more than he remembered it doing when he was 10. 

He’d clenched his teeth, and Mbege had sent him a worried look. He’d simply shook his head, closing his eyes and concentrating hard on ignoring the pain. Once detention was over, the pain still hadn’t stopped. 

Ignoring Mbege’s call after him, he’d sprinted into one of the bathrooms and taken his long-sleeved shirt off, his eyes darting immediately to the new tattoo that was forming right underneath the first one. 

In the six years since he’d gotten the first tattoo, he’d found out what the first tattoo meant. It was a symbol for the gang Sangedakru. The reason he’d recognized it the first time he’d seen it was because the symbol had been all over the news. A member had been killed during a drug bust. 

Murphy had spent countless nights wondering about the appearance of the tattoo and the timing of the death. It was just too perfect, wasn’t it?

He looked back to the tattoo currently forming and instantly realized that the reason it took longer and hurt more was because the tattoo was not being made by a tattoo gun. Someone was carving into his, and his soulmate’s he supposed, flesh, and then pouring the pigment into the new wound. 

Although he hated to admit it, it looked cool as fuck.

As he looked, the shape that was forming made him roll his eyes. His soulmate must be a hipster-gangster. The symbol on his arm was an infinity tattoo. 

The third time it happened, he was 21 and on his break at the coffee shop he worked at. The stinging came from the same place as the first tattoo had, and he watched in fascination as the gang symbol was replaced with blackness. His soulmate was blacking out the symbol. 

Good for them, he thought, and went back to his work as his break was over. Over the years he’d learned how to manage pain, and this barely stung. 

It had been a few months since the last tattoo, and Murphy was thinking of getting one for himself. 

“I don’t know Murph,” Clarke frowned over the lip of her latte. “You know what mom thinks about tattoos.”

Murphy rolled his eyes at his adoptive sister. After his first tattoo he’d used the fact that he had a gang symbol on his arm to get back into the system, and his new family had been only loving and caring. Besides, he’d gotten a sister as a bonus. 

“Clarke, you know I already have three.” She was about to protest, so he raised his hands in surrender. “Technically I’ve been tattooed three times, but only two are visible, yeah yeah.”

She looked pointedly at him and was about to respond when the bell signaling a new customer sounded. 

“Duty calls,” Murphy winked, happy to be out of the conversation. He loved his sister, but she could be so stuck up. Walking over to the counter, he saw mystery girl looking over the menu.

His heart started beating a little faster, but he simply smirked and leaned on the counter. 

“What can I get you today Nicole?” He asked, knowing very well what she would order. A large latte with an extra espresso shot to go. She came in about twice a week, ordered the same thing, and always gave a new name. 

After the first time she’d changed her name, he’d started keeping a list of all her aliases. 

“Yeah, uh…” she hesitated. Turning to Murphy, she smirked slightly. “It’s Camille now.”

“Of course, my apologies,” Murphy smiled, a genuine smile. He could hear Clarke snicker from the back, and ignored the urge to roll his eyes. He really regretted telling her about his crush on the mysterious coffee girl. “ _ Camille _ , what can I get ya?”

She blushed slightly, a first, and then changed up her script entirely. “What would you recommend?”

This stunned Murphy beyond belief. Usually, she would just correct him with a new name, and then tell him her usual order. It had become slightly scripted at this point. Murphy always made an effort to remember the names of every customer, and because of this the coffee shop was becoming a place with regulars. His bosses were real pleased with him, a first in his short career. 

Presently, Murphy had no idea what to respond. Blushing profusely, he started to speak. 

“Uh… I always take the cappuccino with vanilla syrup.” 

He wanted to smack himself. His coffee order was something that he always got made fun of. Even Clarke used to tease him for his ‘unmanly taste’, but what on earth was unmanly about vanilla?

The mystery girl smiled. “I’ll take that then.”

She paid for the coffee, and Murphy got to work. As he finished, he called out the name Camille, and placed the coffee at the pickup. 

“Thank you, John,” The girl smiled, before leaving the establishment.

He looked after her, before looking down at the desk. On a napkin were a name and number written in squiggly letters. The name written down wasn’t one she’d used before. The name, was Emori.

After letting the information slip to Clarke he was  _ constantly _ reminded that he should, in fact, call her. But, being Murphy, he didn’t. A few days after he was having a busy day at work and managed to spill a whole cup of coffee all over himself. He usually wore his long sleeve shirt to hide the two tattoos from view, but he’d rather have them on show than keep working in his coffee stained shirt.

He dug through the back, and the only thing that turned up was a short sleeved shirt a size too small. He looked ridiculous, and he knew it. Besides, since it was so small both of his tattoos were showing. Sighing he put his work apron on and went out to face his customers, relieving Clarke. She didn’t technically work there, but he kept giving her free drinks on the condition that she would help him if needed. 

Murphy took over, and Clarke went back to studying. She was following in their mother's footsteps and becoming a doctor. Murphy on the other hand had no idea what he wanted to do. 

About an hour later the door made the familiar sound again, and he looked up to see Emori walking inside. 

“Hey there,” He said nervously. He wiped underneath his nose, a nervous tick, and continued. “Emori, huh?”

She smiled slightly, and opened her mouth as if to respond when her eyes zoomed in on his tattoo. He froze as well, not sure how to react.

She just stood there, not moving. 

“Hello? Earth to Emori?” He hesitated to touch her, since he had no idea what was wrong. Slowly, she raised her hand to her right arm, and to Murphy’s shock, raised her shirt high enough to show the identical tattoos on her arm. They both stood there in silence for a second before Clarke cut in. 

“Alright alright, you too  _ please _ take a seat and talk, I’ll take over Murphy.”

Thankful for his sister, Murphy took off his apron and handed it over to Clarke. She was absolutely correct. They had a lot to talk about. 

  
  


_ fin _


End file.
